Archive for the ‘Current Players’ Category

His apple stats say a lot about his oranges.

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

In Jayson Stark’s chat today, someone asks about Pujols’ MVP candidacy, and Stark says this:

Albert Pujols is having an amazing year, on every level. One stat I keep checking on Albert is: Percent of pitches thrown to him that are in the strike zone. He’s still under 50 percent — and he’s slugging over .600! No team wants to pitch to him in a big spot, or let him beat them, and he continues to find ways to keep that offense rolling.

Okay, to begin with, two disclaimers: 1) I support Albert’s MVP candidacy whole-heartedly—he’s meant more to his team’s success than any player since the ‘01-’04 Bonds; and 2) his strike percentage is 54%, so I’m not sure what Stark is talking about. But in any case, citing strike percentage vs. slugging percentage as a measure of a hitter’s ability seems bizarre to me. They don’t have anything to do with each other.

Remember that slugging percentage is measured only in reference to a player’s At Bats—which always end in a strike—and not Plate Appearances, which can end in either a strike or a ball. In other words, every time Albert walks, it decreases the percentage of strikes he sees but has no impact at all on his SLG. Moreover, remember that the hitter has some control over how many strikes he sees (if he swings at a ball out of the zone, it’s still recorded as a strike), and that not all strikes are created equal (fouls on two-strike counts, balls put in play, etc.). If anything, Pujols does his part to “keep that offense rolling” by remaining patient and letting the opposing pitcher walk him—these walks often lead to runs later; see my earlier post on the impact of Pujols’ underappreciated walks.

In the broader perspective, I’m not sure that percentage of strikes seen tells us much about a hitter’s ability. As an example, let’s take a look at a game-in-the-life of two hypothetical players A and B, both of whom go 1-3 with a double and a walk.

In his first plate appearance, Player A gets a two-strike count, fouls off a pitch, then strikes out looking. In his second PA, he strikes out on three pitches. In his third PA, he goes 0-2, then lines the next pitch for a double, and in his fourth PA, he walks on a full count.

By contrast, in his first PA, Player B swings on a 3-0 count and pops out. In his second PA, again on a 3-0 count, he grounds into a double play. Swinging on 3-0 yet again, in his third PA he doubles. Finally, he walks on four straight pitches in his last PA.

Here’s how their balls and strikes break down:

Player PA 1 PA 2 PA 3 PA 4 Total strikes Total pitches % of strikes
A 0B/4S 0B/3S 0B/3S 4B/2S 12 strikes 16 pitches 75 %
B 3B/1S 3B/1S 3B/1S 4B/0S 3 strikes 16 pitches 18.75 %

Player A saw 75% strikes, while Player B saw 18.75%—but who had the better day? Sure, Player A was terribly impatient while Player B needs to learn to keep his bat on his shoulder on 3-0 counts, but I think it’s hard to argue either one of them did better than the other.

Now of course, this comparison is deliberately artificial, but I’m just trying to illustrate my point that strike percentage may or may not actually mean much about a hitter’s performance. As another illustration, here are the top-10 Major League OPS leaders this year, together with their strike percentage:

  • Albert Pujols: 54%
  • Milton Bradley: 56%
  • Chipper Jones: 54%
  • Matt Holliday: 60%
  • Lance Berkman: 57%
  • Ryan Ludwick: 62%
  • Carlos Quentin: 61%
  • Alex Rodriguez: 61%
  • Manny Ramirez: 60%
  • Kevin Youkilis: 63%

As we see, Albert and Chipper lead this group, but not dramatically. So I remain unconvinced that Pujols’ strike percentage is a measure of his (immense) value as a hitter. But I’m open to hearing competing perspectives, so bring ‘em on.

Collisions at the Plate

Tuesday, August 19th, 2008

The rules of Major League Baseball allow fielders to block a base from an advancing runner provided that the defending player is either fielding the ball or in possession of the ball.  The runner, also with a right to the base path, is then forced to choose between a collision or a crafty approach to the defended station.  With so much at stake, these rules lead to collisions.  Runners are obliged to break up double plays.  First-basemen have a responsibility to field errant throws.  Catchers must protect the plate.  Injuries are a common by-product of the resulting collisions, not just at the plate, but also at first, second, and, sometimes, third.

I am willing to accept most of the collisions at first, second, or third as unavoidable and, for the most part, fairly harmless.  I do not condone high spikes at second or a slide perpendicular to the base path, but, over the years, players and fielders seem to have developed unwritten rules that keep everyone adequately protected.  At the plate, however, the rules seem to be different.  Catchers step in to receive a throw and runners barrel towards the plate like a wrecking ball into a condemned building.  The runner’s goal is to either prevent the catcher from fielding the ball, or, in the event that the catcher already has the ball, to dislodge the ball (and whatever else gets in the way) to safely reach the plate.

I have been pondering plays at the plate since mid-June, when Yadier Molina suffered a concussion after being run over by one of the Philadelphia Phillies.  The next day was an off-day and Yadier skipped the following three games, missing four out of the next five while regathering his mental faculties.  On the other side of the ball I also grimaced while watching Chris Duncan bowl over opposing catchers around the same time.  What really got me thinking about it, though, was the game between China and the USA in this summer’s Olympic Games.  Matt LaPorta took out the Chinese catcher at the plate (who left the game with a knee injury) and two innings later LaPorta was plunked in the helmet.  I was surprised that this would go on in the Olympic Games, especially given that USA won the game 9-1.  I found an interesting quote (see this article) of Joe Girardi from spring training about collisions at the plate:

During the season, I’m all for it. It happens in the season. In spring training, I don’t believe in it.

This suggests that such collisions should be avoided when the run is not meaningful.  Yet bravado seems to get the better of most athletes in these situations.  I don’t like to see the collisions and I really don’t like the injuries that result.  In an age of pitch counts, body armor, and five-man rotations I wonder if it is really in the best interest of a team to risk their catcher on a violent play at the plate with a single run, or even a single game, hanging in the balance.

Closer to a Closer?

Tuesday, August 12th, 2008

Everybody knows that Cardinals have had trouble in the bullpen this year.  Everybody knows that Isringhausen and Franklin have accumulated a pile of missed save opportunities along with 10 losses between them.  Neither has the ERA of a closer and Isringhausen’s current 5.98 ERA is difficult to align with his career statistics.  With the recent recall of Chris Perez, the Cardinals may be closing in on a solution.  Since rejoining the club last week, Perez has made three appearances, each scoreless and each of one inning or more.  His first appearance saw him pitch an inning and two-thirds of scoreless baseball on just 21 pitches, leading to his first career save.  I admit that it is hard to project Perez as the closer based on eleven outs, but with five strikeouts, four ground ball outs, one fly out, and a runner caught stealing against just two walks and one hit, he seems to be pitching the way a closer should.  I think it’s prudent to keep the closer-by-committee policy alive, but I like what I’m seeing from Chris Perez.

Unrecognized contributions

Monday, August 11th, 2008

In last night’s 4-2 victory over the Marlins, Albert Pujols went 0-for-3 with three strikeouts and one walk. Definitely not a great night, and one which hurt him in all of the major rate stats while contributing nothing to almost all of his counting stats (BB being the lone exception).

And yet the numbers don’t tell the whole story. His walk came in the first inning, after Felipe Lopez hit a one-out single. Lopez, now on second, advanced to third on Ryan Ludwick’s fly-out to center and then scored on Rick Ankiel’s infield single. In the box score, then, when distributing credit for contributing to this run, Lopez increased his run total, Ankiel added to his RBI, and Ludwick received recognition for having made a so-called “productive out”.

Pujols receives no credit at all for having contributed to that run, yet his efforts were crucial to its creation. If he had made an out, even if in doing so he advanced Lopez to second, Ludwick’s fly ball would have ended the inning with no runs scored (remember there was one out already when Lopez singled). But let’s even pretend for the moment that Pujols’ plate appearance simply didn’t happen, that the Cardinals somehow skipped over his turn in the order. Then Lopez would still have been on first when Ludwick flew out, in which case it’s very unlikely he (Lopez) would have advanced to second. And even supposing he did advance, he almost certainly would not have scored from second on an infield single, and then Yadier Molina’s pop-out would have ended the inning, again without Lopez scoring. In other words, if Pujols doesn’t walk (or get a hit), Lopez doesn’t score. Yet while Lopez, Ludwick, and Ankiel receive credit for having contributed to creating the run, Pujols gets none.

I need to draw a distinction here between stats which record a player’s purely individual performance and stats which mark his contribution to run-production. In their stat lines, all four players receive their due for their individual performance: Lopez and Ankiel with singles (which are reflected in their Hits, Total Bases, AVG, OBP, and SLG), Ludwick for his fly-out (which affects his AVG, OBP, and SLG), and Pujols with his walk (as shown in his BB and OBP). But these stats—BB, Hits, Total Bases, AVG, OBP, SLG—do not directly address run production. Obviously, they correlate strongly with scoring runs, but not directly; a player can, for example, improve all of them in a game in which his team is shut out. This is by contrast to Runs and RBI, which by definition are credited only when actual runs are scored.

Of course, these are precisely the reasons why sophisticated analysis of an individual player’s performance discards such stats as Runs and RBI, because these stats are so heavily team-dependent. Instead, such analysis focuses exclusively on individual achievements (such as hits, walks, etc.) and then tries to correlate these individual achievements as closely as possible to run creation. Hence such stats as Runs Created, VORP (Value Over Replacement Player), and EqAvg (Equivalent Average).

These measures and others like them are wonderful advances in our understanding of baseball, and I do not in any way mean to malign them. Nevertheless, baseball is, at the end of the day, a team game, and not just a aggregate of individual performances. To the extent that the structure of baseball games allows individual achievement to correlate strongly with team achievement, it lends itself to the statistical analysis of individual performance much more than, say, football does. Yet despite these sophisticated advances, sometimes the contributions and individual makes to his team’s success can still slip beneath our notice.

To be sure, Albert Pujols and his contributions to the Cardinal’s success hardly slip beneath anyone’s notice; he certainly receives plenty of credit, and justly so.  Still, in a game like last night’s, when Pujols seems to have done almost nothing but strike out, his lone walk in the first inning contributed vitally to the creation of a run, which in a 4-2 victory, came very close to being the entire margin of victory. I suspect that a closer analysis would reveal that he does even more for the Cardinals than we often recognize.

Hold Your Breath

Monday, August 11th, 2008

The weekend series on the North Side did not go as planned.  The Cardinals lost only one game to the Cubs in the standings, but if Carpenter’s triceps strain turns into missed start(s) or, heaven forbid, more time on the disabled list, this series may just have cost the Cardinals a shot at postseason play.  When Carpenter called Yadi to the mound and La Russa and Weinberg followed, I thought things were going to be very bad.  At this point everyone in Redbird Nation is waiting for good news, hoping that ’strain’ means ‘he’s going to be okay’.  I was not able to see the game on t.v., but the radio broadcasters (John Rooney with Mike Claiborne filling in for Mike Shannon) began their speculation with Carpenter either wanting to clarify signs or wanting Molina to call a certain pitch more often.  They quickly realized things were not right on the mound.  Perhaps, like me, the broadcasters had already come to take Carpenter for granted as an Ace forever in the hole.  Well, I learned my lesson, but I’m hoping in a week or two that this setback will be all but forgotten and #29 will again be leading the Cardinals towards October.

Trading places

Saturday, August 9th, 2008

Doug Glanville, who came up with the Cubs and later played at various times for the Phillies and the Rangers, writes an occasional piece for the New York Times. A couple of days ago, he wrote about his experiences being traded, and what it meant to him as a player and as a person. I found his perspective thought-provoking:

A trade is often a stealth move made outside the players’ knowledge, and certainly without his consent….As players, we all understand that to some degree we are property, an asset that can be depreciated and whose title can be transferred. On a whim, no less.

As I fan, I know I’ve often thought of players in these terms, as an asset to be managed, developed, used, and/or traded, all as a means to an end: a World Series title. How many times have I lamented the Danny-Haren-for-Mark-Mulder trade (which came just a year before the Redbird’s 2006 championship, though the parties involved had little to do with it)? Or the Placido-Polanco-for-Scott-Rolen trade, about which I have more complicated feelings? For all my speculation on the values of these, and other, trades to the Cardinals’ chances for success, never did I wonder how Haren, Mulder, Polanco, or Rolen felt about having been traded.  Drafts, trades, free-agent signings—these are the stuff of sports-bar arguments, but seldom do we consider the players involved as actual people.

Let’s make this personal: What if, in a hypothetical world in which such a thing were possible, my employer suddenly decided to trade me to a different institution in a different city? Glanville writes, “I had an apartment lease I needed to cancel. I had to somehow move everything I had to Chicago—including a car—and be in uniform the next day. Not to mention say goodbye to teammates and pack my baseball equipment at the stadium.” Could I make a similar hair-pin transition, and on someone else’s whim, and how would I feel about it?

For one thing, I accepted my current job in large measure because of its geographical location; I wanted to live in this city, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable having to suddenly pick up and leave. I certainly wouldn’t want to be forced into being relocated to a strange and unfamiliar place on just a few hours notice.

But more importantly, I’m sure I’d feel betrayed by my employer, to whom I’ve given years of hard work and loyalty. Every baseball trade is an attempt by the team to improve itself, either immediately or down the road, in one way or another; if I were traded, therefore, this would mean that my employer saw my departure somehow as an improvement to the organization. How would I interpret such a trade? As an attempt to dump my ever-increasing salary for a younger, cheaper, less-experienced replacement? As a judgement on the quality of my job performance? As a way, perhaps, to rid the institution of an unwelcome personality?  Baseball players, after all, are traded for all of these reasons every year.

As Glanville writes, “Initially, I was offended. After all, I grew up as a baseball fan in the 1980s, when loyalty was still a big part of the professional sports mentality.” He implies, correctly, that loyalty no longer plays much of a role in professional sports (see Ramirez, Manny), but I don’t think that’s true for most of the rest of us. It certainly isn’t true at my job, where many of my colleagues have worked for decades.

Of course, it is different for professional athletes, and Glanville points out that players understand this part of their job. Nevertheless, even as I hope the Cardinals are able to trade for some desperately-needed bullpen help, I also hope I can keep in mind that these are people and their futures, and not just their stat sheets, being discussed.

Organization Misfits

Saturday, August 9th, 2008

In a week that saw Manny Ramirez traded to the Los Angeles Dodgers and Brett Favre traded to the New York Jets it is apparent that sometimes a player cannot stay a part of an organization, no matter how much talent they bring to their team.  Such moves become reasonable in my mind when the player’s presence affects either the player’s or the team’s ability to do their job effectively.  Sometimes, however, it seems like the friction isn’t really with the team, but rather between a certain player and management.  Over the last few years I feel that certain players in St. Louis have suffered professionally simply because they were organization misfits.

For a first example, consider John Rodriguez, who played for the Cardinals in 2005 and 2006.  Rodriguez owns a career .298 batting average with 46 runs and 43 RBI over 332 AB.  This is solid run production.  For one reason or another, Rodriguez was not a part of the 2007 Cardinals team and now toils for the New Orleans Zephyrs in the Pacific Coast League, where he’s batting .303 with 20 runs and 20 RBI in just 119 AB.  As a Zephyr, Rodriguez is a member of the Mets organization and, at the age of 30, his major league career could be over.  His real shot at the bigs came in St. Louis and I have a hard time understanding what he did wrong, other than not fitting in with management.

Yesterday, Anthony Reyes debuted for the Cleveland Indians, turning in six and one-third innings of 1-run baseball.  He scattered (since only one run scored) seven hits, while striking out four and walking one.  This is a guy that the Cardinals apparently wouldn’t even consider starting during the dark days between Wainright’s finger injury and Carpenter’s return.  Instead, the Cardinals gave the nod to newer and greener (not in the good way) prospects Mitchell Boggs and Jaime Garcia.  Normally, I would have little issue with spot starts by AAA prospects, but the Cardinals are actually trying to get into the postseason.  Why not put the player out there who gives you the best shot at a win?  It is even conceivable to me that Anthony Reyes could have earned his way into the Cardinals 5-man rotation from the get-go.  But, Reyes, too, was a misfit.

These situations don’t always end poorly for the Cardinals.  Fernando Vina had only 115 ABs after leaving St. Louis.  Steve Kline was never the same after the 2004 season.  Scott Rolen for Troy Glaus worked out great.

A little closer to home, Skip Schumaker seems to have finally earned the respect necessary to make it into the lineup on a daily basis.  This is Schumaker’s fourth season as a Cardinal, but the first where he surpassed the 200 AB plateau.  He may not have the power of a Rick Ankiel, Ryan Ludwick, or Chris Duncan, but Skip is a ballplayer and he has shown he can play at this level.  I wondered last year if he would ever break through and I hoped that he wouldn’t be sent out as another Cardinal misfit.

As a final point of conversation, I imagine that most Cardinal fans remember Brendan Ryan’s faux pas in late 2007 when he swung at a 3-0 pitch and made an out.  If memory serves, he was immediately taken out of the game and found himself off the lineup card the following day as apparent punishment.  A rookie swinging on 3-0 is not good baseball, but is it really necessary to discipline a major leaguer as if he were a five-year old caught with his hand in the cookie jar?  Are the after-effects to blame for Ryan’s recent demotion to Memphis?  The jury is still out on this one, but Brendan Ryan just might be another Redbird misfit.